The Titan's Key
by LeilaSecretSmith
Summary: Alea is an orphaned servant on Asgard. She thinks herself unnoticeable, until Thor returns from Midgard with Loki in tow. From there, everything goes downhill, and fast. A terrible secret is revealed in the chain of events, forcing her to flee to Midgard. Her only hope is to trust the Avengers, but she's too scared of herself, of them, to do so. Can they change her mind in time?
1. Prologue

There is darkness. Nothing but solid, unwavering shadow. Then, through the black, a faint image appears. It cannot be said that she is emanating light, and she certainly never carries a lantern or other light source, but she is visible, as if the shadow parts around her like water. She is old, a hunched and mysterious crone. Her face is not visible, since it is obscured by the hood of a long gray robe whose ragged hem reaches all the way to the floor. Though she seems old beyond measure, her gait is smooth and easy, like that of a dancer.

She strides with purpose, for she has an urgent errand to complete. The inexorable ones, the Nornir, have called a meeting with her here. Though they did not say so explicitly, she knows that it is because of the Timeless Child, the little one that has been under her indirect care for many years. She muses upon this as she walks, wondering what could possibly be in store for the child. Surely the Nornir do not mean for her to be set into time again? That could prove dangerous.

Finally the shadows part and she steps into the enormous cavern that has been set aside for this one purpose. Light is a rare privileged in this realm, but in this place the light never falters or wavers. A column of pure time-magic had been set there eons ago, a precaution against the arrival of a unthinkably powerful mage. The Nornir had set it there with the help of Yggdrasil, expecting to imprison an uncontrollable child whose magical ability could not be matched. A prophecy had been given to them, and was inscribed into the flawless dark green stone of the floor.

_A tale told but not finished;_

_a child arisen to end a war._

_When brothers feud and peace is broken_

_and death comes knocking on Asgard's door._

_A single flame holds back the darkness._

_A tiny maiden for a warrior's chore._

_Beware the snake and guard the child_

_until the villain arises once more._

_Her blood is power; her life force binding_

_The gems will answer to only her call._

_The mage arises; succeed or fail,_

_her kin determines the fate of all_

The crone's feet brush over the engraved letters, a grim reminder of this child's fate. Three female figures stand in front of the column, silhouetted against the light, resplendent even in the gloom in their complex silver and gold armor. The old woman's eyes turn sharply to the tiny infant hovering in the beam. The light plays over the child's dark blue skin strangely, sending curling waves of undulating gold time-magic dancing in unnatural patterns. In her time-repressed sleep, her magic is hardly active, but occasionally it sparks off the time-magic, sending out a flurry of green waves and sparks that quickly dissipate.

"Mistress." one of the figures says, turning to the old woman and catching her attention again.

"Skuld." She greets, not particularly friendly but not hostile. "What brings you and your sisters to my realm?"

The middle woman, Urör turns and answers for her sister "You well know, Mistress Death. We have come for the child."

Mistress Death frowns. "Truly? I suspected as much, but did not expect you to take such action. This one...she is dangerous. Even now, in this infant body, her magic tries to force her out of the spell. Are you certain?"

Skuld and Urör nod together, though Verðandi, the third sister, doesn't move as she observes the child. "It is time."

For a brief moment the Mistress looks perturbed, but then she shrugs. "Very well, I suppose you know best."

Finally, Verðandi turns and looks at her. The Norn's eyes are a lovely violet-blue, but they are flat, lacking in emotion as she is lost in thought. "Why do you insist on taking an old woman's body, Death?" She asks, a tiny spark of humor in her eyes.

"Because I wish it so." Death laughs. She had forgotten how nice it was to have a friend to tease her. With a smile, she snaps her fingers and her body morphs into that of a buxom young Ӕsir's, her dress turning to an elaborate set of gray adamantium plates and jet black cloth pieces. "I am Death. I can look however I wish to look."

Verðandi smiles as well. "Now come, O fair Ӕsir! We must combine our keys to free the child." she says.

They all turn to the task at hand, spreading out and forming a loose circle around the column. There is a moment of silence as each locates the key, formed of magic, that had been bound within them. If all four were not present, there would be no way to halt the time-magic long enough to free the child. Then, simultaneously, they draw in a deep breath and speak a stream of ancient Norse words, activating each of their respective keys. There is a sharp crack and the column of light parts in two around the infant, like a stream around a stone, allowing one of the Nornir to levitate her out. Gently, the babe floats down into Skuld's waiting arms. Her tiny body settles perfectly into the Norn's cradling arms and she yawns, her perfect blue lips spreading into a tiny O.

Skuld smiles tenderly, but Mistress Death's mood has turned grave. "Where will you take the child? She cannot be raised as a normal maiden. Her magic is volatile to say the least."

Verðandi looks amused. "Oh, but she will. We will raise her for the first few years in order to teach her to control her magic, then we will erase her memories and send her to be a servant on Asgard. Haelga should make a wonderful teacher."

Death looks downright shocked. "Her? Be a servant? One of her power and lineage deserves nothing less than the Throne of a Goddess!"

"Precisely." Verðandi replies. "Being a servant when she deserves to be a Queen will teach her humility and compassion. Aside from that, she will also learn to better control her powers by being trained as a Valkyrie. Haelga will see her talent quickly and teach her as she needs to be taught."

"Will you tell Odin? You know how he gets."

"No. He need not know, for if he does he is likely to tamper too much."

Mistress Death sighs, reverting back to her previous form. "Alright, alright. You know what you're doing. Now be gone with you! I have many duties to attend to, and there are myriad battlefields to visit." She pauses and gives the sleeping child a soft look. "Good luck to you, little one."

And with that, she sets of back down out of the cavern, disappearing into the shadows once more.


	2. Chapter 1: The Prince Problem

**Hello! Here's the first real chapter of my story *woo***

**I'll try to update as much as possible, but my schedule is CRAZY.**

**On a side note, you may notice that the way Alea addresses people changes over time. For example, as long as she is a servant, and for a good time after, I'll never write just "Thor" because she thinks of him as "Prince Thor" I assure you, it is VERY intentional ^_^**

**Read on and enjoy!**

**Edit: On another side note, my auto correct wasn't working. Sorry!**

**P.S. I own nothing but my OC and a few plot points! Everything else belongs to Marvel and Disney. This disclaimer applies to all the chapters.**

* * *

It was very quiet. Sleepily, I stretched, tipping the book on my lap into the giant stack before me. "Oops." I murmured, rolling up a wrinkled old scroll. Yawning, I rubbed my eyes and tried to remember why I was here. Oh right, Haelga said I could have a break for an hour before dinner preparations started. I was high off the ground, somewhere between thirty and forty feet. This was my hiding place in the library, at the very top of a bookshelf. I had found it when I was little and cleared myself a place. The size of each shelf progressed with height, so the top one was easily tall enough for me to sit in. No one knew about this place, since I had chosen the last bookshelf in the row, right next to the forbidden wing.  
I glanced at the hourglass I had set. "Oh!" I cried in alarm, realizing that I had slept past the appointed hour. Hurriedly, I shoved my books and scrolls aside, then grabbed my rope and descended. It took only a second to send the line back up with magic, then I was off running. I sprinted as fast as I could to the kitchens, where I knew Healga would be organizing the preparations for dinner. I knew I must have looked a mess, my hair wild and my dress askew, but there was nothing I could have done about it just then.  
Healga was there indeed, standing in the midst of what she liked to call "constructive Hel", organizing the chaos. She saw me immediately and waved me over.  
"Alea!" She said scoldingly, shaking her head sadly.  
"Sorry," I said sheepishly "I fell asleep in the library."  
She sighed. "I suppose I can't blame you. You haven't had much sleep lately, what with Prince Thor and Prince Loki returning." She frowned. "But as a future Valkyrie, you must be the epitome of discipline. You cannot allow yourself to slack."  
"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to doze off..." I murmured, ashamed.  
Haelga chuckled and pulled me into a hug. "It's alight, child. Now go, the tables need to be set and the cooks are waiting."  
With my shame gone and my good mood renewed, I skipped off to the section of the room that the cooks were using to store the dishes that needed transport to the feasting hall. A long line of tables was pushed against the wall, festooned with the finest food Asgard had to offer on silver and gold platters, dishes, cups, and bowls. A constant stream of servants and cooks danced around the tables, the servants whisking away dishes even as the cooks set down their latest masterpieces. I slipped in easily, joining the dance with practiced grace, dodging around the others with a dexterity I attributed to my small size and slim frame. A dish laden with gloriously browned apples smothered in cinnamon and nutmeg sauce beckoned me, so I snatched it off the table and spirited it away down the corridor.  
The cavernous space used as the dining hall was unusually silent and empty. A low murmur hung over the room, created by the few servants as they placed their dishes on the long tables, their footfalls silent, their lips unmoving as they followed the directions of the senior workers who arranged and rearranged the food. I took my platter directly to the main table, the Royal table, knowing full well that Queen Frigga would have ordered these apples especially for Prince Loki; they had ever been his favorite.  
"Serving girl!"  
I was so startled by the unexpectedly loud call that I almost dropped my cargo, but I managed to catch it just in time. Of course, I recognized the voice immediately, but I set the tray down on the table before answering him, just in case.  
"Yes, Prince Thor?" I turned, forcing myself to smile as I answered the man that I knew would be standing behind me, the muscular blonde hulk of an Asgardian I had served for nigh on twenty years. He was indeed standing behind me, only four or so feet betwixt the two of us, which I considered a tad bit too close for comfort.  
"You have served my brother before, have you not?" he rumbled, his sapphire blue eyes glancing swiftly over at the tray of apples before returning to me.  
I stiffened slightly, stifling a vexed sigh as well as my irritation. Honestly, he didn't remember my twenty years of service? Dear lord...  
"Indeed, my Prince. I am Alea, who has served both you and Prince Loki for many years." I let only the tiniest hint of steel enter my voice.  
A guilty look flashed over his face, but the sentiment was quickly smothered. After all, he was a Prince and I was a mere servant girl.  
"Good." he said, an infinitesimal bit of discomfort in his voice. "I need you to take some sustenance to his chambers. He has...elected...to remain in his toom rather than join the feast."  
I dipped into a curtsy. "It will be done, Prince Thor." I murmured.  
"See to it that he is tended to within the hour." The Prince turned on his heel and strode out of the hall, his crimson cape billowing behind him with every step.  
The moment he was out of sight, my shoulders slumped and I let out a gusty sigh. How can I face him? I wondered numbly, staring blankly at the tray of apples that had previously been meant for my favorite Prince.  
"Alea?"  
I snapped out of my trance as someone softly called my name. Glancing over, I saw that it had been my best friend Merai who had called me. Her pretty blonde hair, much like Thor's, was pulled back in the intricate braid I had arranged for her earlier, and she was dressed in the same manner as I, though her gown was dark amber instead of forest green. Her dazzling green-blue eyes glittered with concern.  
"Are you ok?" she asked, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You look pale."  
I managed a nod. "Mhh...yeah. I'm alright." I cleared my throat. "We should be off. The feast must still be tended to."  
The worry in her gaze lessened only slightly, and for a moment I was afraid she would pursue the matter. But she merely nodded and followed me back to the kitchens. As she went to the tables to continue the endless relay, I slunk over to Haelga in order to inform her of my predicament. The woman noticed me and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.  
"Is something amiss, Alea?" she asked mildly, probably thinking I meant to ditch my duties in favor of an hour or two in the library. I shook my head vehemently.  
"No! Well...yes. Prince Thor asked me to take food to Prince Loki within the hour."  
Haelga's eyebrow stayed up. "And...?" she prompted.  
"And...I'm scared." I whimpered.  
"Why?" She asked softly, confused. She knew of the long friendship between the Prince and I.  
My eyes drifted down toward my shoes. "I don't...he's not the same. I'm afraid he won't recognize me, and yet...I'm also afraid he will."  
"You have a duty to serve the Prince. To serve both Princes." she reminded me.  
"I know." I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. For a moment I didn't move. Then, through sheer force of will, I forced myself to be strong. "Should I go do it now?" I asked, meeting my mentor's amber eyes once more, a hint of bravery in my tone.  
Haelga smiled proudly. "That's my girl. Chin up, you can do this. You're a Valkyrie, remember?"  
I nodded, straightened my spine, and marched off to fill a tray with Prince Loki's favorite foods. I could do this. I could do this. I...could I do this?  
I had no answer.


	3. Chapter 2: Pseudo-Loki

** Hello my few but wonderful readers! Welcome to the next chapter!**

**It's not my favorite and it was difficult to write, so in places it will sound a little forced. I promise it gets much better the more passionate I am about the chapter!**

**Thus far, it looks like I'll be ably to update roughly once a week. No guarantees though, my life is very busy.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

I knocked lightly on the huge, ornate door. _Please stop trembling, limbs!_ I prayed. Fear threatened to overwhelm me. No, I had to be strong. It was my duty.

I realized that there had been no reply.

"Prince Loki?" I called, knocking on the door once again.

There came a muffled reply, something along the lines of "What could you possibly want?" Taking that as a 'come in', I opened the door and stepped inside.

This wasn't the first time I had entered these particular cambers. For many a year I had been the Prince Loki's secret apprentice. He had recognized my magic when I had entered the forbidden wing of the Royal Library, merely fifteen winters old, in search of Conjuration scrolls. Instead, I had found the Prince practicing Dark Magic and, in the process, earned myself a mentor. But those days were long gone. When he had fallen from the Bifrost...I had never expected to see him again. Finding him on Midgard during one of my secret scrying sessions was shocking enough, but my Loki, my sweet, patient, kind Loki, had been replaced by an insane, murderous Loki. I wasn't sure how he'd react to my presence.

"My Prince," I started, trying to keep the tray I was holding from trembling, "your brother, Crown Prince Thor, insisted I bring this to you." Loki's head snapped up from where he was sitting cross-legged on his bed, studying from a myriad of books and scrolls.

"He is no brother of mine!" His green eyes flashed in anger. I blinked in surprise. No, his eyes weren't green. They were...blue? That couldn't be right. Looking for a pretense to get a closer look, to confirm my suspicions, I smiled and said sweetly:

"I apologize, my Prince. May I leave the food here?"

Loki went back to reading with a dismissive wave of his hand. Cautiously, I came forward and set the tray on the polished metal table in the center of the room, pushing aside a stack of dusty scrolls to make room.

b _Hmm, this is no good, I can't see his eyes clearly._ I thought with a tiny frown.

"My prince?" I asked. He looked up once more, annoyed, and I stifled a gasp. His eyes were indeed blue, a glowing, shifting color that my Loki would have hated.

"What is it, girl?" he growled, annoyed.

I forced my reply to be calm and smooth "Do you need anything else?"

He shook his head impatiently "No! Now be gone!"

Deciding it was too dangerous to risk his anger, I made my way towards the door. But as I put my hand on the handle, I couldn't help but risk a question.

"Prince Loki...do you truly not remember me?" I asked, so softly that I wasn't sure he heard me. His answer would either allay my suspicions or confirm them, and frankly I wasn't sure which I hoped for.

He glanced up one last time and glared at me, eyes narrowed. "No, girl. You mean nothing to me. Now be gone before I remove you the hard way!"

With a silent nod and a half curtsey, I fled the room. Anguished tears rolled down my pallid cheeks as I ran through the halls. I was right. This wasn't my Loki.

His mind was being controlled.

Somehow I managed to keep myself together, but it seemed to be only by the most tenuous of stitches. By instinct and ironclad habit only, I stumbled to my room and changed into the dress I was supposed to wear when serving at a feast. While my working dresses were knee-length, my feast dress was floor length with a skirt that burgeoned out gently, giving volume without inhibiting my movement. The corseted bodice did not constrict and shape like those of the gentry that were intended to minimize the waist, but rather lended back support by it's moderate snugness. It had the ability to flex and shift like chainmail, allowing for proper movement. The neckline, hem, and sleeves of the dress were ornamented with cream-colored borders stitched with golden thread in complex Asgardian designs, but that was it.

Since I was in a hurry and there was no one else in my shared room, I risked the use of magic to quickly braid my hair back in a complex pattern, then secured my headdress over that, feeling the soft fabric brush the back of my neck as I tied it into place. Altogether, It took me only about seven minutes before I was again rushing toward the kitchen, skirts in hand.

"There you are!" Matilda, Mattie, cried in relief as I ran through the arch. Her dress was identical to mine, but instead of burgundy and gold it was midnight blue and silver, with a head scarf to match. "Haelga already sent the others off to their positions! We need to go now or we might be late!" I let her grab my hand, her more tanned skin contrasting sharply with my own ivory, and pull me down the hall. She was worried for nothing, as I well knew, but there was no reasoning with her about this. Mattie was utterly paranoid about being late.

I forced her to slow down just prior to us bursting through the servant's entrance into the Main Hall.

"Composure, Mattie!" I hissed. She nodded reluctantly and paused with me for a moment to straighten our hair and dresses. We then walked into the main hall, hurriedly taking our places just behind the marble pillars that lined the enormous room.

This was the optimum position for us to be, and all the other serving teams were arranged in an identical manner, albeit in different places. Across from us, a line of six girls, three teams of two, mirrored our line. I knew more girls were lined up all the way to the end of the hall, but I could see very few of them.

Glancing behind me, I confirmed that the servant boys, our go-between with the kitchen, were there. I was pleasantly surprised to see my good friend Ram leaning against the wall with his comrade Theo. Enormous jugs of wine, which would later be joined by auxiliary platters of food, rested on a small table between them. The jugs were intended to refill the girl's smaller pitchers; if the jugs became empty, as they oft did, one or both of the boys would run them back to the kitchen and refill them from the prodigious wine barrels stored there.

Ram noticed my glance and gave me a wink and a rakish smirk, temporarily distracting me from my worries. With a roll of my eyes, I turned back to watching the table. As the guests filed in and took their seats, I was startled to notice I had been assigned to the Royal table. How had I not noticed that before? I forced myself to take careful note of who sat within my little domain.

King Odin sat at the head of the table, with Haelga standing directly to his right; he would eat nothing and drink little, but even then I did not have to worry about him since Haelga was his attendant. Queen Frigga sat on his left, glorious in her magnificent viridian dress. Much to my surprise, Prince Thor decided to ignore his seat to the right of King Odin and chose instead to sit next to his mother. I smiled; he must be compensating for Prince Loki's absence. How sweet and...uncharacteristic of him. Perhaps he really had changed on Midgard. The last within my range was Lady Sif, and I had no reason to worry about her. She would drink and eat only little more than Queen Frigga. Thor, with his voracious appetite, was the only one I needed to worry about.

Within ten minutes, the entire hall was filled and all the guests were in their places. King Odin then stood, Huginn and Muninn perched on the back of his throne, and began what I knew would be a long speech. The tedium of his words, which I'm sure were inspiring to the noble Ӕsir warriors, guided my thoughts back to the Pseudo-Loki. _How can I free him? Can I free him? What if he remembers me? Will he strike out at me? Shall I even be able to stop escape attempts? Who's controlling him?_ No, I already knew the answer to the last question. Thanos. The Mad Titan. I had briefly seen his minion, The Other, in my scrying session and immediately connected the two. Thanos was trying to destroy the universe once again.

I grew more and more tense. As the King's speech neared its completion, I feared for the handle of my pitcher, which I was gripping so tightly I was surprised it hadn't shattered. A mighty roar from all the guests startled me back to reality. Once King Odin had taken his seat, the entirety of the servants came forward in tandem, filling the goblets and mugs with practiced speed. When each cup was filled, I retreated with Mattie back to my position, keeping a distracted but watchful eye on my section.

The evening wore on, seemingly never to end. Prince Thor regaled everyone within earshot of his adventures, much to my chagrin. He was unbearably loud and had a tendency to over exaggerate by a good deal. Of course, I was the only one who was aware of these discrepancies as I was the only one who had watched him when he had battled the Pseudo-Loki on Midgard.

Finally, miraculously, he became too drunk to continue and stumbled off to his chambers, eliciting a sigh of relief from me, Mattie, Ram, and Theo. The poor boys must have made at least ten trips back to the kitchen to slake the Prince's thirst for mead. With Prince Thor and his stories absent, the feast dwindled off until no guests were left and the servants were able to clear the tables. Almost every servant was stumbling with weariness as they carried stacks of soiled platters, cups, and bowls to the kitchen for the unfortunate cooks assistant's to clean.

"Alea." It took a long moment for it to register that Haelga was calling to me. I turned my bleary eyes to her, wondering _what could she possibly want?_

"Yes 'm?" I slurred, trying and failing to keep my posture straight.

"You did well, dear." She smiled, looking tired herself.

"Then c'n I go t' bed?" The request slipped out before I realized that it was probably disrespectful. Haelga merely laughed slightly.

"Yes, you can go to bed little one. But that's not what I came to say. Queen Frigga desires to speak with you on the morrow. Go straight to her when you awake."

I blinked stupidly until I realized what had just been said. "You mean...the Queen wants to see...me?" I frowned. "Did she give a reason?"

Haelga gave me a stern look. "She is your Queen. You obey her without question."

I nodded out of habit. "Yes my Lady." Perhaps a little too formal, but it was a subtle way to apologize that usually worked well with Haelga.

She smiled in amusement. "Go, dear. You look like you're about to fall asleep on your feet."

Honestly, I don't even remember walking to my room. All I remember is pulling off my stifling Feast dress and pulling on my nightdress, then collapsing onto my pallet and falling into a dark and dreamless sleep, completely an utterly unaware of the way my life was about to be irreversibly altered.


	4. Chapter 3:It Can't Be!

**Hello all! Thank you for the patience! Sorry I didn't update last week, but this chapter took forever to write and even longer to type up.**

**Be sure to review! I NEED criticism! If you want to give me ideas for the story or Marvel characters I should include (I'm playing a game called lets-see-how-many-Marvel-characters-I-can-shove-in to-one-story). Interesting ideas for scenes between Alea and these characters would help too!**

**Love you all!**

* * *

Despite how late I was up last night, well beyond midnight, my internal clock awoke me at exactly sunrise. Groaning, I opened my eyes slightly, grateful that my room had no window to let vexing morning light in to banish the blessed dark. As usual, I was the first up. The other three girls who shared the room with me were still fast asleep, shapeless mounds beneath their blankets. With an enormous yawn, I forced myself upright, trying to blink the sleep from my eyes.

"Come on girls." I called softly, pricking up a brush and pulling it through my tangled hair. All three of the girls shifted, grumbling quietly, but didn't get up. I smiled and rolled my eyes. "Come on, up, up, up! We're not spoiled children that can sleep all day!" I stood to my feet as I pulled my wavy sable hair into a simple ponytail, tying it back with an emerald-colored ribbon. "Come on Ysa!" I said, padding over to the nearest lump and poking her with my foot.

"Alea!" she whined, rolling away from my foot. She hated it when I called her Ysa.

"If you fall asleep again I won't hesitate to dump a bucket of water on you." I warned, only half teasing. We both vividly remembered the day I had made good on my threat. And the ensuing prank war. Luckily she groaned and sat up, rubbing at her eyes.

"Leave her be, Aly." Mattie said from across the room, yawning in the middle of her sentence.

"I was mostly teasing!" I protested, a mischievous grin on my face. "Mostly."

Mattie smiled as well. "Can you braid my hair again today?" she asked, conveniently distracting me.

"Sure, sure, just let me wake Rose up first."

"Too late, Aly." Rose's serene voice rang out from her bed. She sat up, her honey-colored eyes already bright. "Can you go light the lamp please? I would imagine even you need light to properly braid Mattie's hair back."

"Very well." I retrieved the oil lamp from the back of the room and lit it from one of the torches out in the hallway. Of course, I could have lit it with my magic or even just conjured a mage-light, but I didn't like using my abilities where non-magical means would suffice. I also hated using my powers in front of anyone but Haelga. My magic was mine and mine alone, and there were very few things I could say that about.

_You didn't mind showing off for Prince Loki..._ I shut the thought down quickly. That was then, and this was now. There was not use dwelling on the past when so much needed to be done in the present.

I set the lamp in the center of the floor so that the glow illuminated the room equally.

"How do you want me to braid it, Mattie?" I asked, wresting the brush from her hands and smoothing back her tangled golden mane with quick, expert strokes.

"Normal is fine." she said, yawning yet again.

The room became silent except for the rustle of cloth and the sound of three brushes simultaneously combing hair into submission.

"Hand me a ribbon, would you?" I murmured, finally breaking the silence. Mattie complied, handing back one of her long brown ribbons, which I used to secure the last of her hair into place.

"Thank you, Aly." she said cheerfully as I retreated back to my pallet.

"It was no trouble, sister." I replied sincerely.

"Hurry up, you three!" Rose cried impatiently, already pulling her dress over her head.

"Oh, be silent!" Ysolda grumbled, twisting her own coppery hair into a long, plain braid. Mattie and I laughed.

I had three work dresses, one green, one blue, and one brown. The only clean one was the blue dress, so I unfolded it and pulled it on.

"Lace me up please?" I asked Rose, turning my back to her so that she could tie the lacing of my dress closed. Once she was done, I did the same for her. Finally, when all four of us were done, I blew out the lantern and we hurried down to the kitchens for breakfast.

Haelga was waiting for me, a chunk of bread and some cheese in one hand. Instantly, I remembered what she had told me the night before and groaned.

"Can't I go after breakfast?" I asked, looking longingly at the pot of steaming porridge the cooks had had made for the servant's breakfast.

"Do not whine, Alea." Haelga chided, handing me the bread and cheese. "It is most unbecoming. Besides, Queen Frigga is waiting for you in the Library. You must go now."

"Yes, m'lady." I said tiredly, curtseying and scurrying off toward the Library. Once I was out of earshot, I started grumbling incoherently as I wolfed down my makeshift breakfast. "...couldn't have done it in the afternoon..."

Luckily, the sight of the Library instantly improved my mood, so far as to elicit a smile. Light from the gorgeous sunrise streamed through the towering windows, casting a golden glow over everything. I smiled wider, enjoying the warmth it provided as it danced in streams over my skin.

The Queen was not hard to find. She was reclining on a plush sofa near the entrance, reading a book and practically exuding grace. I swallowed hard and approached her on wary feet.

"My Queen." I said hesitantly, curtsying deeply. "You called for me?"

She smiled, closing the book and setting it to the side. "Yes, I did. Come, there is much to discuss." I frowned slightly but didn't ask as she glided off through the rows of shelves with a grace only a Queen can know.

_Is she headed for the Forbidden wing? _I wondered in alarm, suddenly afraid that she knew of my constant trespasses there. Much to my horror, she paused right in front of the enormous carved wooden doors that led into the wing.

"My Queen, a-are we going in there?" I asked, a genuine tremble of fear in my voice. The gleam in her eye told me something was indeed amiss.

"Yes, child." she replied, lowering her voice so that only I could hear her. "But then, you are no stranger to this place." It felt as if my blood froze in my veins. I was unable to do anything but stare at her in dumbfounded terror. "It's quite alright, darling. You're not in trouble." She assured me, opening one of the doors and stepping inside.

When still I didn't move she smiled in amusement and grasped my wrist, pulling me inside. "You're not in trouble." she repeated mildly, towing me over to a set of couches near the wall. "Sit." I forced myself to comply, sitting stiffly on the edge of the cushion. "There now." She said, smiling as she settled across from me. "Let's get some light, shall we?"

Before I could even think to stand and retrieve a lantern, she conjured a glowing yellow light and set it above us, hovering in the air.

"My Queen, I-I am sorry." I stammered. She smiled indulgently.

"Oh Alea," She sighed "You should have guessed the day you met my son in here. I was made aware of your mischief that very day."

I was horrified. "He told you?" I whispered in disbelief.

"No, no, of course not!" She said quickly. "If there is one thing my baby knows how to do, it's keep a secret. However, I knew what he was trying to do that day and was subsequently keeping an eye on him, just in case his experiment went awry. In all actuality, I was just about to intervene when you rushed in and protected him."

"Does the Allfather know?" I asked quietly, slightly appeased.

Queen Frigga paused for a moment, seeming to choose her words carefully. "No, Odin does not know. I fully indented to tell him, but that night one of the Nornir visited me."

My eyes grew wide. "The Nornir." I murmured in awe and disbelief. Queen Frigga nodded.

"Yes. Urör commanded me to keep quiet about you and your abilities. She promised to return and tell me why. Last night..." she paused and locked gazes with me, deadly serious. "...she fulfilled her promise."

Again, my blood went cold. "I-I...what's so special about me?" I managed to choke out.

The Queen smiled tenderly. "Oh Alea." she said. "You are far more precious than you realize."

"I am a servant." I said quietly, staring down at my hands. "A future Valkyrie, maybe, but still just a servant." A memory, long suppressed, bubbled up in my consciousness. "I am replaceable." I whispered, repeating the very words that Thor had reprimanded me with so long ago.

There was a long moment of silence. My eyes darted up briefly to find Queen Frigga looking at me with undisguised pity. I immediately looked back down at my hands, a blush of shame rising to my cheeks. There was a whisper of fabric on fabric and the couch shifted as she came and sat beside me.

"Oh little one," The Queen unexpectedly wrapped her slender arms around me. "by virtue of the change you have wrought in my son alone you are irreplaceable. But even then, you are unique and beautiful. More so than you know. This is what Urör told me: you are destined for far greater than even I can fully understand. She told me of a prophecy that is intertwined with your fate."

I stiffened. _Prophecy? What prophecy? For me?_ My questions jumbled together inside my head.

"And today, it is time. Time for you to know." She stood, keeping ahold of one of my hands and pulled me to my feet. I was too confused to protest, but a pit of fear was rapidly forming in my stomach as she guided us to the back of the very back of the wing.

This was the dangerous part of the Forbidden wing, the part I always sought to avoid. Heretical books, tomes on black magic, scrolls on summoning the most unholy denizens of Nifleheim and beyond, these were stored here on dark shelves bound with protective runes and seals. The air almost crackled with magic. I was afraid, deathly afraid as we delved deeper. The unholy energy stirred my magic within me, brought the sleeping snake of my intrinsic darkness into wakefulness. The only thing that kept me from running or losing control and imploding with magic was the Queen's cool hand on mine.

She looked back and tightened her grip reassuringly. "It's alright." She whispered, though her own eyes held tinges of the arcane influence around us. "We're almost there."

We stopped before the very last wall, black stones carved with all manner of wards, runes, seals, and talismans.

"Open." She murmured, pointing to a round seal set almost to the floor. It was as tall as I was and just as wide.

As I watched, trembling with the effort of holding myself together, the seal faded until it had vanished completely, revealing a small alcove carved behind it. Within the space, two things rested: a chest, intricately designed of black onyx plates and gold filigree, and a large scroll, yellowed and cracked with incalculable age.

"Come." The Queen motioned with her hand and both objects floated out of the alcove, the chest coming to rest near her feet and the scroll hovering in midair in front of her. "It is much too old to handle." She explained as she gently unrolled the parchment with her magic.

My shaking tripled as the words on the scroll became visible. They were written in delicate cursive, obviously in enchanted ink as the letters were still dark and bold as the day they were inscribed, sharply contrasting with the aged paper. Around the borders, tiny scenes had been drawn; battles, deaths, coronations, every kind of story was recorded there in unnatural detail. But the words...the words were what terrified and captivated me.

_A tale told but not finished;_

_a child arisen to end a war._

_When brothers feud and peace is broken_

_and death comes knocking on Asgard's door._

_A single flame holds back the darkness._

_A tiny maiden for a warrior's chore._

_Beware the snake and guard the child_

_until the villain arises once more._

_Her blood is power; her life force binding_

_The gems will answer to only her call._

_The mage arises; succeed or fail,_

_her kin determines the fate of all._

"No." I said in blatant denial. The words resonated with me and I knew it. "No." My voice shook just as much as my body. "This can't be about me! It...it just can't!"

"This was given to us long ago." Queen Frigga said sadly as she re-rolled the parchment, mercifully hiding the cursed words. "We had no idea when the child would emerge. For the first few years, Odin searched and searched for her, for you, although he didn't know it. But as time stretched long, it became apparent that the prophecy could apply to any time, and the searching slowly ceased. Now we merely keep an eye out, though only a handful of us remember; it has long since faded from the memory of ordinary Asgardians."

I wanted to scream, to weep, to break down, but somehow I stayed upright, my expression stony.

"There must be a mistake. I am just a servant. Those gifted in magic belong almost solely to the nobility. I am nothing. I am no one." Towards the end, my voice cracked and I sounded near tears. Why did I believe this?

Because I had never been told otherwise.

For a while, when I was younger, Haelga and Prince Loki had made me think that maybe, just maybe, I was...special. But after a certain incident with a very drunk and raging Prince Thor, those misconceptions had been utterly destroyed.

I was nothing.

I was no one.

And I accepted it.

My life had become exponentially simpler after I had done so, once I had truly and fully accepted that I was just a servant and always would be.

Queen Frigga looked at me in alarm, only just now realizing the depth of my thoughts. "Who hath told thee such lies!" she cried sharply, reverting to an older form of speech.

"Prince Thor opened my eyes to reality, my Queen." I replied flatly. "I shall not delude myself into hoping. I am and always will be a servant." It was my shield, my fortress, the one truth I knew, the one truth I had accepted. If that was taken from me, I would lose all sense of reality since it was rapidly being destroyed around me. Prophecies, blessings, the Nornir, everything I thought was true was a lie.

The Queen gave me a sad look but had the good sense not to argue and pull the rug out from under me. "Very well. Believe what you must, darling. However, we will be having a nice long chat about this in the future." She said sternly.

"What's in the chest?" I asked diverting the attention from me and my inferiority complex.

"Truthfully, I do not know. It is bound by powerful magic, only to open at the child's touch."

"Then it will not open to me." I said stubbornly.

The Queen moved the chest over to me by magic. "Try." She said simply, her tone leaving no room for refusal. I looked reluctantly down at the chest. It was alluringly beautiful, but had no lock or visible seam. I knelt in front of it and tapped it once, quickly withdrawing my hand.

"There." I muttered, "See? It didn't-" My sentence cut off as I watched the gold lattices curl away from the top of the chest, allowing the lid to pop silently open. It felt like the breath had been knocked out of me. I stared down in disbelief as Queen Frigga swooped in and pulled two objects out.

"Oh my..." she breathed, wonder on her face. Mechanically, I looked up at the two objects she had suspended in the air. The first was a gorgeous, gleaming black spear, the head intricately formed of delicate-looking shards of metal, and at its base a blue-green gem the size of my palm. The second was a magnificent set of Asgardian-style armor, half composed of the same black metal as the spear and half of a silver-gold substance I had never seen. For some reason, it make me acutely uncomfortable, so I swiftly looked away.

"What is this?" I inquired quietly, standing to my feet.

The Queen smiled radiantly. "Oh Alea! These are yours! Composed of Hela Gold and Elven Silver! Oh, they are magnificent!" I paled considerably. Those were two of the rarest, most precious metals in the nine realms.

"I-I..." The thought stubbornly refused to complete itself.

A third object, a helmet, floated up out of the chest to hover in place above the armor.

"Oh my. I haven't seen a helmet in this style in eons." The Queen's comment distracted me, causing me to look at the helm as well. I frowned at it, puzzled. Long had I studied various types of armor, but I had never seen a style such as this.

"Are those...wolf's ears?" I asked.

She smiled. "Indeed. 'Tis a very old style, one rarely seen. Among the magically gifted nobility, it was a sign of great honor." She reached up and pulled the helm down out of the air. "The ears," She pointed along the perfect contours. "are designed to amplify sound to the wearer."

I frowned, studying the helm closely for the first time. It was of the finest make, smoothed to perfection. At the front, a separate face-framing piece of curved Elven Silver came down from the forehead, ending about the width of my ears to my cheekbones. A crown-like piece of Hela gold was secured behind it. I reached forward, letting my fingers trace the sharp edges of the crown.

"What-" My voice shook, so I took a moment to steady it. "What is this? Surely it is not a crown?"

"Clearly, it is significant." Queen Frigga said cautiously. "Perhaps it is meant symbolically."

I could tell she didn't believe her own words. My knees felt weak.

"Put it back." I whispered, tears in my eyes. "Put it back."

"Alea...these are yours. Your hand opened the chest." The words were gentle and sympathetic, but still they stung.

"I don't want this." I said in a strangled voice. "I don't want my magic anymore. I'm tired of hurting people!"

"You've been Moonstruck before, haven't you."

I flinched at the mention of that cursed condition.

"Yes." I admitted miserably.

"How badly?"

My head sank lower "People have died." I said in a small voice.

"It's not your fault, dear." The Queen murmured, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder. We were silent for a long moment. Finally, she floated the raiment and weapon back into the chest and shut it. "I can see that you are not ready yet." she said quietly, replacing both the chest and the scroll into the alcove.

_I don't think I ever will be._ I chose not to speak the thought aloud.

"Perhaps you must grow and mature your powers more." she continued "But Alea," She lifted my chin so that I was looking into her gentle grey-blue eyes. "if you need to speak to me, about anything, please do."

"Yes, My Queen." I replied automatically, curtseying.

"Now," She shivered, rubbing her arms. "let us leave this accursed place at once."

* * *

**Ehehehe! Second note! One thing may have escaped your notice, but it is VERY significant. Go read the part about her being Moonstruck again. That's vital to the story!**

**Also, if you want to see a rough sketch of the armor I described, go to my DeviantArt page here:**

art/Alea-s-Armor-Rough-Draft-404054275?ga_submit_n ew=10%253A1380502901


	5. Chapter 4: Broken Trust, Broken Bones

** Hello wonderful readers! Get ready for some serious beat-down in this chapter!**

**Remember to review, and feel free to suggest pretty much anything!**

**Love you all 3**

* * *

Oh hesitant feet, I shuffled out of the library, my thoughts muddled and jumbled. I couldn't believe it. It just couldn't be true. Me, a powerful mage? I knew I had talent, but to go so far as to say that I was the object of a prophecy? No, it wasn't possible. It couldn't be. I wouldn't let it be.

"Alea!"

I nearly jumped out of my skin as Thor's booming voice jolted me from my ponderings. I turned hastily around, half-afraid that he knew of the my discovery.

"Y-yes My Prince?" I stuttered, facing the hulking man. "What can I do to serve you?"

He appeared to be tired and slightly winded. "You are hard to find, little one!" He laughed merrily, pushing a strand of errant blond hair behind his ear.

"Have you particular need of me?" I asked in confusion, fidgeting nervously. He nodded and pulled a small scroll from his pocket.

"My brother sent this with me in case I found you. He said that you would best know where to find these."

My eyes widened in disbelief. _He remembers me?_ I wondered fearfully. With a trembling hand, I took the scroll and opened it. Written upon it in Prince Loki's smooth penmanship was a list of relatively obscure book titles, most of which I had read myself.

"I do indeed know where most of these are located." I confirmed, scanning down the list.

Thor smiled. "Excellent! I would ask that you find and deliver them to my brother before the day is spent."

I glanced up from the list and raised an eyebrow, mildly surprised. _'I would ask?' Where did this new, polite Prince Thor come from?_ Luckily, the Prince walked off before I could blurt out a comment. I sighed and rubbed my forehead, looking forlornly at the long list. _How in the nine realms am I supposed to carry all these_? I wondered in dismay.

* * *

An hour later found me slowly making my way through the winding halls toward Prince Loki's room. Almost everyone who passed me, guards and servants alike, paused to stare wide-eyed and open-mouthed at my burden. I carried a prodigious stack of books in my arms and a satchel stuffed full of scrolls was slung over my shoulder. If I hadn't known these halls so well, I would have crashed several times; the stack of books went well over my head. Truthfully, the books were much too heavy for me to carry on my own, but a tiny bit of invisible magic lessened my burden and allowed me to stagger down the halls.

Finally, blessedly, I arrived at Prince Loki's room. Grunting as I carefully balanced my burden, I knocked on the door with one slippered foot.

"My Prince? I have the books you desired." I called out, my voice slightly strained. No reply was forthcoming, but since my arms were starting to tremble I decided to go on in. I looked imploringly at one of the guards that stood vigilantly at the Prince's door (he was still a prisoner, after all), silently begging him to open it for me. The young man cracked a smile and pulled the door out, bowing teasingly.

"Thanks." I whispered with an answering smile, hurrying in.

"Here are the books you requested, my Prince." I called out again, going over to the table and setting the stack down, sighing in relief as my screaming muscles finally got to rest. The satchel of scrolls joined the books, sprawling messily across the wood.

Behind me, I heard the door shut and, immediately after, felt a spell being cast. I stiffened, spinning around in alarm to see the doors glowing with green light. I ran over, knowing instinctively that something was very, very wrong, and found the doors sealed tightly with a containment spell.

"So."

The voice was definitely the Pseudo-Loki's, layered as it was with malice and cold hatred. I spun around, pressing my back against the door, my eyes darting around the room. Pseudo-Loki stood from where he had been concealed in shadow and sauntered toward me, his lips twisted in a sneer. With a jolt, I realized that his eyes were literally beginning to glow, as if the controlling spell over him was being exerted more strongly.

"You've finally made an appearance."

"W-what do you mean?" I asked in a tremulous voice, swallowing nervously.

His sneer deepened. "Don't play dumb, _Alea_." He snarled, coming even closer. "I know exactly where you went today. Why else would I deign to speak with my idiot brother." He stopped, leaving a scant foot of distance between us, forcing me to press as hard as I could into the wood of the door, terrified.

"I-I-I do not know to what you refer, my Prince." I managed to stutter.

He laughed darkly. "All this time, all the years searching, and you were right here. Foolish girl, did you really think you could evade our detection forever?"

He knew. By the Nornir, he _knew_. And that meant that Thanos knew. It might even have been Thanos talking the whole time.

My body began to shake with fear.

"Who are you?" I demanded, anger joining my terror.

For a brief moment, the Pseudo-Loki looked startled, but the expression soon turned back to malice. "Clever girl." He smiled darkly. "Already you are formidable. No, I am not your precious Loki. He is far, far away." He reached out and put his hands on either side of my trembling shoulder, trapping me. "Don't worry, pet. That will be the least of your troubles soon."

"What do you want?" I snarled, my anger at his mocking strengthening my courage.

His smile widened. "My master wants you, child." He said in a low voice, almost radiating malignant glee. "You are the key to unlocking the most powerful artifacts in the universe. He already has one of them, but he cannot gain their full power without your blood."

My body trembled violently and all color drained from my face, but still I managed to reply. "'Tis a shame then, fool." I said in an equally low voice. "For I am not the one you seek."

Finally, he stood upright, giving me much-desired space. "I heard your rant to the Queen earlier." He purred slyly, moving off a bit and turning away from me. "I think this can work to our advantage. It is a shame, but not for us. So long as you deny your birthright, you will never be who you are destined to be."

Suddenly he whirled around and thrust a hand at me. I was lifted up by a tremendous force and hurled screaming across the room. My back slammed painfully into a marble pillar, cracking the stone and driving the air from my lungs. I slid to the ground, my vision blurry, and watched as Pseudo-Loki walked up to me and crouched next to my inert form.

"Poor child." He cooed mockingly. "Perhaps if you cooperate I can make this easier for you."

The air rushed back into my lungs and I spat out a reply. "Never...will I bow...to one such as you." I gasped, coughing up blood that dribbled down my lips.

His expression darkened with rage. Again I found myself flying across the room. This time I hit chest first and my face collided painfully with the stone. Several ribs and my right ulna crack, eliciting a strangled scream that quickly cut off as the blood pouring from my nose filled my mouth. I thudded painfully to the floor, my breathing shallow as my ribs screamed in protest to every inhalation.

"Had enough?" Pseudo-Loki snarled, stalking back toward me, his booted feet making nary a sound.

"Ne...ver..." I managed to choke out, the coppery tang of blood coating my tongue.

With a move so fast I didn't see it coming, his right foot lashed out and smashed into my left femur. I screamed my throat raw as the bone fractured, the broken tip tearing through the skin on my thigh. Crimson blood quickly soaked through the dark fabric of my dress.

"This can continue all day, you little harlot." He snarled, seizing my hair and dragging me upright. I wailed in agony as my broken bones were jostled.

"I am not the Mage!" I screamed, panting as I fought to gain control of my emotions. If I didn't, my magic would run rampant in another Moonstruck fit, potentially destroying everything in its path.

For the third time he cast me across the room, roaring in anger. I hit the floor instead of the wall, tumbling a couple of feet and coming to rest at the foot of the table, moaning as the pain of my newly fractured left arm assaulted me. Tears leaked from my eyes and all semblance of control vanished as the blinding pain overwhelmed me.

Yellow sparks of pure magic flew erratically off me, leaving tiny black scorch marks on the floor or burning through my dress. My vision changed as the magic flooded through me, my only indication that my eyes were beginning to glow yellow.

"Temper, temper!" Pseudo-Loki chided with a sneer. "I'd be careful if I were you. We wouldn't want to...kill anyone, now would we?"

A chilling, unearthly wail arose from me, quickly dissolving into broken sobs. I had killed people before, and he knew it. My magic was uncontrollable. As if to demonstrate his point, a glowing yellow corona of energy took form around me. My hair, which had been braided neatly back, began to float freely around me, as if it had a mind of its own. The corona melded with the black strands, turning them as gold as the sun.

"No!" I sobbed, my voice layered with chiming magic. The energy around me began to spread, melting the stone of the floor into glowing puddles and incinerating the table and all its books.

"Yes!" Pseudo-Loki hissed, a green shield forming around him to protect him from my magic. "You are the one we seek! You _will_ serve our master!" He stalked forward through the heat, reaching a menacing hand out to me. I screamed again, a sound so high pitched that it almost passed out of hearing. Every piece of furniture in the room burst asunder. I rose off the floor, writhing in a cradle of pure energy, and screamed again.

His face was positively jubilant. "Yes! Give in to the madness!" He shouted gleefully above the roaring winds, uncowed by my power. "Embrace the power! Show me your true face!"

I drew in a deep shuddering breath and managed to gain control of my voice for a second. "Nornir!" I wailed, lifting my glowing eyes to the heavens. "Save me!" My power surged anew and a wave of white magic blasted across the room, throwing Pseudo-Loki into a wall and rendering him unconscious. The walls trembled at the rolling waves of energy that assaulted them. Another scream filled the air as it became evident that, if I didn't stop this, I would raze the entire palace, leaving nothing but burnt corpses and smoking rubble.

_Alea._

The voice in my head startled me; it wasn't mine. Then, as if someone had flipped a switch, the fit shut off and I crumpled to the floor. Shakily, I pushed myself upright, surprised to find that my broken bones had been magically set. Had I done that?

_Alea. You must flee._

There was that voice again. "Who are you?" I whispered, pulling myself painfully to my feet.

_That is of no consequence, child. You must simply trust me. Now go! You haven't much time! Find Thor, for he will show you your path._

I stood dumbfounded for a long moment, but since there was nothing else I knew to do I staggered to the door and fled down the hall, ignoring the startled calls of the guards and I ran, tears and blood alike streaming down my face.

I sprinted past everyone, giving them no time to stop me. Finally, I saw one of my friends.

"Ysolda!" I yelled, running up to her. She paused and looked up from where she was scrubbing the floor.

"Yes, A- Oh!" The smile on her face turned to a horrified expression as she gazed upon my burnt and bleeding form. "Alea! Are you ok?" She squeaked, one hand going to her mouth.

"Where is Prince Thor?" I demanded, giving no heed to her question. She pointed a trembling hand down the hall.

"He want to speak with the Allfather. Alea, you...let me go get some-"

"Why?" I asked hurriedly, the feeling of urgency intensifying.

"I-I think he is returning to Midgard. Alea, the healers-"

Ignoring her, I ran off down the hall toward the Throne Room, faster than before. _Is this it?_ I wondered, hope rising within me. _Am I to go to Midgard? Is that what the voice meant?_ I dearly hoped so. Perhaps I could carve a life out for myself there, evade detection by all. Finally I reached the double doors, just in time to see Prince Thor's crimson cape pass through them. Silently, I turned myself invisible and slipped through the doors just before they boomed shut. I knew what I had to do; I must petition the Allfather for passage to Midgard.

_If anyone is listening._ I prayed as I crept silently through the darkened room, slinking from pillar to pillar. _Please, help me._

"Thor." Odin's voice rang out across the room, temporarily freezing me in my tracks.

"I have answered your calls, Father. What do you need of me?" Prince Thor's voice was strangely reassuring to me as I pressed my back against a pillar, as close to the pair of gods as I dared to get.

"Yes, my son. Midgard has need of you. I fear that they will be ensnared in a war they cannot hope to win within the year."

"You are sending me back?"

"Yes. You must help the mortals fend off an immortal attack. It is your duty, for if you do not defend them, then this enemy will turn his greedy gaze on Asgard."

"I shall do my best, Father."

"Good fortune, Thor. May the Nornir watch over you."

Cautiously, I poked my head around the pillar and looked toward the King. He was standing in front of the golden throne, a stern but proud expression on his face. Prince Thor knelt before him, his crimson cape pooled on the floor behind him. King Odin raised his spear, Gungnir, and pointed it at the Prince. Abruptly, he was enveloped in a multicolored light-show of magic.

Then the Allfather looked at me.

I jerked in surprise as I felt the invisibility spell melt away. He shifted the spear slightly, and suddenly I too was being taken by the magic. My lips parted, whether to cry out or ask a question I do not know, but no sound came from me.

Then both the Prince and I were whisked away, spiraling through space and time toward Midgard below.

* * *

** Next chapter should be up pretty soon since I have it all planned out. S**t gets real!**


	6. Chapter 5: Bloody Introduction

** Hello wonderful, wonderful fans! Welcome to the next chapter. Get ready for some oddly gentle Thor and the entrance of the Avengers!**

* * *

The Allfather chose to send us along the Bifrost, probably to conserve energy. After all, Heimdall's post was not the only way to cross the bridge.

The Bifrost is, in essence, a void. There is no sound in the void. There is no real sensation other than a distant, detached feeling of melting and solidifying and stretching and compressing all at once. Time almost ceases to be as one travels within it. Then, all at once, unexpectedly, reality comes flooding back, almost smashing one's mind and body in the process. Were it not for the magical aspects of the bridge, all who crossed it would simply cease to be.

Unfortunately for me, those protective spells, strong though they are, were not enough to fully cushion the effects of inter-real travel on my mangled body. The Bifrost's magic faded and I slammed feet first into sandy ground marked with scorch patterns. A horrendous, jolting pain rocketed up my legs, spine, and into my head. I cried out in agony, crumpling to the ground and instantly losing consciousness.

Fortunately, I came to soon after. My head pounded horribly and my magic systems felt askew, like a computer with its wires all crossed, but I was alive. I cracked an eyelid and found that I was lying on my back, staring at a slowly lightening dawn sky. Midgard. Shifting my head downward slightly, I saw that I was wrapped in an expanse of crimson cloth, the source of which was yet unknown. A soft yet hard object shifted slightly beneath my head, briefly startling me and making my jump slightly. I moaned as the bleeding and bruised mess that was my back throbbed.

"Hush and be still, little one."

Surprised but smart enough not to move, I turned my eyes to the side to find that Prince Thor was the one cradling my head on one of his mighty thighs.

"M-m-m...Prince...Thor?" I slurred, hating the way my mouth refused to function properly. He smiled and smoothed my hair away from my face.

"Hush, little one." he repeated gently, very out of character for him. "You must rest. You are gravely injured and it will be some time until my companions can bring us aid."

For a moment I obeyed, letting my eyes shut and sighing tiredly.

_Hold a moment..._ a coherent thought finally formed in my mind. _If we are on Midgard...then the companions he speaks of must be...the Avengers!_

I forced my eyes open. "Companions?" I articulated, alarm evident in my tone.

Prince Thor made a shushing sound as I shifted, patting my cheek reassuringly.

"All is well. The Avengers are truly Earth's mightiest heroes, the most noble warriors in the realm. You have nothing to fear from them."

"B-but..." I tried to get my thoughts to clear, but the trauma from my realm-jumping experience was severe. I could think, but I couldn't order my thoughts properly. "I...I came here to escape Prince Loki's wrath. I need to hide. They'll find me if I'm with the Avengers." I blurt out.

the Prince looked down at me, shock evident in his blue eyes. The expression cooled into unreadability as his eyes narrowed slightly. Saying nothing, he reached out and mechanically drew his cape tighter around me, clearly lost in thought.

It occurred to me that I probably said too much.

"You...should rest." He said at length. "I promise to you, the Avengers would not abandon anyone to Loki's wrath, least of all a child."

I shook my head adamantly. "No. It's not safe. Not for anyone." I babbled, the words slurring slightly. I tried to struggle upright, to get to my feet, but the Prince pinned me down by my shoulders.

"Stop that, Alea." He chided. "Regardless of what you think, you need medical attention."

"I-I...it's not...I..." Panic constricted my chest, making it hard to breath as I continued to struggle, growing more and more desperate. Finally, he growled in frustration and did what the mighty Thor never does: he used magic.

It was a very simple spell, one that nearly all warriors of Asgard are taught, and requires minimal skill and energy. It is designed to be used on dying warriors in the battle field to ease their passage to Valhalla or to be used for easing the pain and panic of the gravely injured. It's harmless and has a short duration.

Prince Thor covered my eyes and much of my forehead with one huge hand. He whispered two Ancient words, roughly translating to "Sleep, brave one." My sensed abruptly dulled and I slumped back, my muscles going limp. Since he didn't put full force into the spell I wasn't knocked out cold, leaving me conscious, albeit barely.

"What troubles your path, little one?" He murmured as he watched my eyes close, less a question and more a roundabout observation.

A deep thrumming sound suddenly reached us, making the air vibrate in pulses. The winds soon stirred around us, kicking up sand particles.

"They came swiftly." Prince Thor noted in surprise.

As my hair shifted in the rapidly intensifying gale and windblown sand particles stung my cheeks, he gathered me up in his arms and stood, trying to avoid putting pressure on most of my still-bleeding wounds. It didn't work; I had to suppress a groan of pain. The roaring got louder and louder until finally a rolling boom and a tremble in the ground signaled the landing of something very heavy and the sounds tapered off.

The Prince strode forward, each step jolting me with pain. Something hissed nearby and a convivial, sanguine voice carried over the noise.

"Point Break! Good to see you buddy!" It said.

I gritted my teeth, fear and annoyance washing over me in equal parts. _Anthony Stark._ He continued, seemingly unaware of my presence. "Didn't think you'd ever need help from us, being an immortal lighting rod who can fly, but..." Finally he trailed off. "Er...who's the kid?"

Thor chuckled. "It is good to see you as well, my friend! I am afraid we have little time for banter, though. This child is in dire need of aid."

"Oh, uh, bring her on board I guess."

Thor continued walking, bring us into a well lit space.

Three new voices joined the scene, talking one after the other. I easily identified each of them.

"Thor! Who's this?" Steven Rogers, his voice switching straight from cheer to concern.

"Woah, that's a lot of blood." Clint Barton, skipping the greetings and going right to a calm, albeit obvious, assessment.

"What did you do to her?" Natasha Romanoff. I reserved judgment on her, mostly because she terrified me.

Prince Thor ignored their greetings. "My friends, do you know anything about healing? I fear Alea is losing blood quickly." There was an awkward pause until finally Clint spoke up.

"I guess I know something about field medicine." He sighed. "I'll see what I can do, just put her down...somewhere..."

The Prince very carefully walked a few steps and set me down on a hard surface. I gasped, my eyes watering as my back jolted in pain again. I kept my eyes tightly closed, grimacing.

"My apologies." He murmured, pulling his cape off me and exposing my torn and burned dress.

"Steve, can you help me clean her off? I don't think I can take care of all of that myself." Clint spoke up as a door boomed shut and the vehicle slowly took off. My heart plummeted in my chest as I realized where we must be going.

Something wet and cool was laid against a particularly nasty cut on my exposed shoulder, distracting me. It felt good at first, but quickly turned to an excruciating burning sensation as the liquid entered the cut. I screamed and jerked my shoulder back, opening my eyes and scrambling backwards until I was pressed against the wall. My gaze darted around the room.

Natasha was piloting what I realized was a jet of some sort, paying us no attention. Thor was standing next to Tony near her, and both had paused in their hushed conversation to give me a surprised look. Steve and Clint were of most immediate concern, however. The archer was rummaging around in a tall orange box, pulling out sterile bandaging material and, to my horror, surgical needles and suture material. Meanwhile the super soldier was giving me a wide-eyed look, a wet, bloody cloth in one hand.

"Stop it!" I whispered, covering my shoulder protectively with one hand. "I-I can't take any more pain..."

I was weak. I was pathetic. But I couldn't bear any extra agony. Already I had experienced more pain in one day than I had in my entire life.

"But..." Steve started, "if we don't clean some of those wounds out they might get infected. Some of them are still bleeding, too."

"My magic should kick in...soon." I bit my lip, worried that it hadn't taken effect already. That Bifrost jump must have scrambled me more than I originally thought.

Steve and Clint exchanged a glance. "Magic?" Clint asked suspiciously.

For the second time, I realized that I had said too much. Thankfully, Prince Thor came to my rescue.

"She is in training to be a Valkyrie, so magic has been part of her training. Beyond that, most Asgaridan's innate magic will automatically heal them. It is nothing strange among our people."

"Then why hasn't it worked already?" Steve asked.

Everyone look back to me. "Inter realm travel is not..." I frowned, a feeling of lethargy overtaking me. _Oh dear._ "i-is not..." My eyes abruptly rolled back in my head and I slumped over, feeling chilled to the bone. My ears rang, but I could faintly hear them talking, could feel someone shaking me.

_I'm really dying_. I realized in surprise. Something warm surrounded me. I blearily opened my eyes a slit to see that I was in the arms or a certain super soldier. He saw my open eyes and started speaking loudly, urgency in his eyes, but I couldn't understand him. My eyelids drifted shut again as my head lolled to the side.

_Sorry Haelga._ I thought as I felt sleep looming over me, ready to strike. _Looks like I won't make you proud after all. _

My breath escaped in a tiny sigh and the comforting grayness of oblivion took me.

* * *

**Be sure to review! You guys make my day!**


	7. Chapter 6: What Tony Saw

**Unexpected update! I know it's pretty short, but the next part doesn't flow into it right, so I just need to post this as-is. I'm sure none of you have a problem with that. :D**

* * *

**-Tony's POV-**

After the girl -Alea?- had passed out, things became frantic.

"The medical equipment on this crate is too limited!" Clint growled, rummaging around the space until he found a small oxygen tank and mask.

"She's extremely cold, Barton." Steve warned, rubbing one of her limp arms in a futile attempt to warm it up.

"Keep holding her." Clint responded, fitting the mask over her face. "Your boosted metabolism keeps you warmer than the rest of us. Let's hope that's enough for now."

"Anything I can do?" I offered.

Clint spared me a brief glance. "Call ahead and tell them to have a medical team standing by." He looked toward the cockpit. "Nat, how far out are we?"

Natasha flipped a few switches before responding. "Best estimate? Fifteen minutes."

"I think we can make it." Clint muttered. "We should try to close some of the open lacerations though. That might help a little."

Steve gently flipped her over, exposing a horribly damaged back. I winced; it looked like she had been whipped. The dress, once a lovely shade of blue, was now dark violet with blood. The parts of uncut skin that could be seen through the gaping holes in the fabric were almost purple enough to match the dress.

"Jesus..." I muttered as Clint began to cut the fabric away from the injuries. "What happened to her?"

Thor frowned. "She did not fully explain, but it is clear enough what happened. She said that she was fleeing to Earth to escape Loki. Obviously they had some sort of...argument."

Steve snorted angrily. "Argument is an understatement, Thor." His blue eyes, normally so calm, glinted dangerously.

"I have to agree with the boy scout for once." I said. "This is messed up. She can't be what, more than 14?"

"It also bothers me, friends." Thor rumbled, pressing a fist to his chin. "This should not have happened."

We watched in silence as Clint pulled the needle through her torn skin, pausing occasionally to wipe blood away or pick out a shard of shrapnel or re-clean a particularly nasty area of the injury. Slowly, a clumsy line of stitches formed. As he worked, Alea jerked in her sleep, whimpering. Steve did his best to keep her still, but I could see his anger growing with every pitiful cry.

"I am deeply vexed by this, Tony." Thor finally murmured, turning to me. "I do not know why my father would have sent her with me. It cannot be because she was injured, for on Asgard she would have received much better care. So why send her? What exactly made Loki attack her? My brother never does anything without a larger purpose, and beating servants is not his style."

I gestured to Alea. "I don't know, but she sure does. We'll have to ask her once she wakes up."

Thor nodded, his expression dissatisfied. "I suppose that is the best we can do for now."

"Five minutes to arrival." Natasha called out, distracting us.

"Good." Clint said, sitting back and wiping his blood-stained hands off. "I've done all I can safely do for now." Three of the widest, cleanest cuts had been sewn shut, the shards of stone picked out of them. He had also cleared off most of her blood, exposing a few patches of pale, unblemished skin and leaving a huge pile of bloody rags on the floor.

"I need something to-" Clint's gaze landed on Thor's cape, which had been draped across the seats on the opposite side of the cabin. "Thor, can I borrow your cape?"

Without a word, the demigod picked it up and tossed it to Clint, who folded it in half and wrapped it around Alea's torso.

"Let's just hope she can pull through this." He sighed and pulled himself into one of the seats. Steve carefully flipped Alea over and sat near him, cradling her limp body gingerly. Steve, Thor, and I all stared at her dirtied face. She had stopped crying out, but tear tracts ran down her cheeks and her expression was pinched with pain. Finally, as the jet descended toward the Helicarrier, Steve summed up what we were thinking.

"Someone's going to pay for this."

* * *

**Fixed the mistakes ^3^**

**Feel free to leave a review!**


	8. Chapter 7: Dreaming

**Hello lovelies! Special note today.**

**So, a guest left a harsh review for me. Honestly? I appreciated it. Sure, it made me kinda' sad, but he/she had good points. In case he/she reads on despite those flaws, I'd like to explain a bit. This should also benefit the rest of you with doubts.**

**1. My vocabulary is large. Apologies, but I can't help it. It's legitimately how I talk in real life. Nothing I can do to change that without making an effort to dumb it, and by extension myself, down.**

**2. Alea is a bit of a Mary-Sue right now. I will admit that freely. However, she ****has not had time**** to be developed fully. The most you've seen of her "powers" is a temper tantrum and some minor lifting. Give me time, eh?**

** P.S. Now that I think about it, Alea's powers are a lot like the Hulk's. She's scared of it and reluctant to use it. It can easily get out of control (right now) and is extremely dangerous when it does so. If that's what makes her a Mary-Sue, than shouldn't the Hulk be considered one as well?**

**3. Believe it or not, Alea has changed Loki in this universe. But not in the way you'd expect. That, however, is to be left to the story. Spoilers and all ;)**

**4. The prologue says that she is worthy of royal treatment. However, ****I have not actually said why****. It does not reside entirely in her "powers." Beyond that, in Asgardian society wouldn't a powerful mage deserve royal treatment? That's why the Nornir sent her to be a servant, in order to give her a better perspective when she learned the truth.**

**5. I didn't make her say "I'm a servant and can be replaced" because I needed Frigga to praise her. That line is part of setting the stage for future reactions. Frigga praised her because she watched Alea grow up. She wasn't just praising her ability, but the girl Alea was growing up to be. Her kindness, generosity, responsibility, humility. As the Queen, Frigga had to remain distant, which is why it threw Alea for a loop. Unbeknownst to her, Frigga and Haelga often talk about her progress. After all, it is Frigga's job to manage the Valkyries.**

**Feel free to leave more critical reviews, my lovely readers. Seriously, it makes me step back and take a hard look at how the story's doing. I need that.**

** *Bewoop!* *Bewoop* Alert! Filler chapter-ish thing! Sorry, it's really short. The next chapter is frickin' looooong, so I thought I'd toss y'all a bone and update while simultaneously giving some insight as to her past relationship with Loki.**

* * *

Dreams. I was always dreaming. There was seldom a night where vivid images, good or ill, did not haunt me. But that time, with Midgard's strange magic affecting me, my dreams turned strange. The fuzzy quality was still there, the sense of distant unreality, but instead of traumatic memories or visions of the future, I saw memories I did not even remember in reality.

"Loki?" The little child that was me sits upon a swath of verdant green grass in the meadows beyond the Asgardian city. She looks tiny and innocent as she sits there, black curls bouncing in the wind, green eyes dancing with mischief, pale cheeks flushed sanguine in the chilly wind. Loki looks up from where he sits across from her, carving a dragon-shaped knife handle with an enchanted knife.

"Yes, Alea?" He asks, smiling ever so slightly. The girl pulls her hood a little further up over her face to shield it from the wind.

"Why did we come out here?"

"To practice magic, of course."

She gives him a shrewd look, eyes narrowing. "Yes. But why did we really come here?"

Loki smiles in amusement, setting the carving aside. "I fear you are learning too much from me. That sounds like something I would have said."

Alea can tell he's dodging the question. "It's because of Prince Thor, isn't it?"

His smile vanishes, and for a moment he glares angrily at her, emerald eyes flashing. But when she shrinks back, he relaxes, sighing deeply. He looks at her for a long moment and she quickly averts her eyes.

"You're cold, aren't you?" He finally murmurs. She hears the veiled implication and crawls over to sit next to him. He takes the edge of his travel cloak and drapes it over her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders. The warmth is nice, so she snuggles deeper into the swath of gray fabric.

"Thor is an oaf," He says, looking out over the fields of tall green grass as they ripple in the wind. "but I still love him." Alea says nothing, knowing that he's not finished. "What he said, what he did... I suppose I felt that I needed to get away for a few hours."

"He didn't really mean it." She mumbles. "He was just...drunk."

Loki grins, glancing down at her. "True, but when is he not drunk?" She giggles. It's true, the Prince is often drunk.

"I think magic is better." she says earnestly, peering up at him with huge, eager eyes. "It saves lives. Brute force gets people killed. An' you're worth a hun'red soldiers because-"

Loki laughs and cuts her off. "It's alright, I know that. No need to reassure me, little one. I've already chosen my path, and contented myself with it." He pauses, a sad, faraway look in his eye.

"I'm glad you're my student, Alea. Thank you, for saying what no one else will."

Then the dream faded, morphing into a new realm of darkness beyond memory, and I knew no more.


End file.
